Season of Dreams. Jenna Mindel

with Marsh cherries,” Beth added.

      Adam’s eyes opened. “Canned?”

      Eva set aside her oven mitts. “Dried. They’re what’s left of last year’s pitiful harvest.”

      “Your father told me about the killing frost last year. Tough loss.” Adam stirred cream into his coffee.

      Eva clenched her teeth. If only they’d had a bumper crop, it might have made a difference. Instead, Peece had swooped in like a bird of prey sighting a quick kill. He bought up the orchard, enabling her parents to pay off their past-due mortgage and commercial note. Even after leaving the farmhouse to her and giving her brothers money, her folks had enough left over to retire modestly in the Florida Keys. Making everyone happy.

      Except her.

      Eva shook off the thought. “They’re your cherries now, so you can process them however you like.”

      A moment of awkward silence hung in the air.

      And Beth chose that moment to leave. “I have papers to grade, so I’ll leave you two to discuss business. Nice to meet you, Adam.”

      He gave her a wide smile. “You, too.”

      Eva swallowed the urge to ask Beth to stay. Adam Peece made her nervous. But then so did most men close enough to her twenty-five years of age.

      She eyed Adam as he reached for another scone. “Your father said you’d taken the sale hard. I hope we can get beyond that working together.”

      Eva pursed her lips to stop the sarcastic retort poised for takeoff. Who was he to commiserate? She felt the corner of her eye twitch as she stared him down. Pretty hard to do when his attention was wrapped up in what he was eating.

      “What else are in these?” He held up half a scone and examined it.

      “White chocolate.”

      “Wow. They’re really good.”

      She knew real appreciation when she heard it, but she hadn’t expected to be warmed by it. “Now then, Mr. Peece, did you have some questions about the upcoming season? Questions about our conversation this morning?”

      His laser blues locked on to her, trapping her. “My father is Mr. Peece. I’m Adam.”

      Eva looked away. She didn’t feel comfortable using his first name. It sounded ridiculous considering hers. Adam and Eva. Cute. Calling him Adam rang so informal and friendly. He’d have to earn her respect and friendship before she doled it out.

      “Look, Peece, this isn’t easy for me. Working for you on my family’s farm. It’s going to take some getting used to.” Tracing the rim of her grandmother’s plate with her fingertip, she glanced up at him to gauge his reaction. Would he take offense?

      No. In his eyes she read understanding.

      Adam smiled at Eva. He liked the way she used his last name. From her it sounded saucy, even though he knew she used it to show that she meant business. He’d expected some reservation from her but not this stark vulnerability underneath a brave front that bordered on cockiness.

      Adam leaned back, hooking his knee with both hands. “Working with people, I’ve gotten used to a lot of smoke blowing. Thanks for being honest with me. I’ll be honest, too. I don’t want to make this any harder for you. I’ve got an employment contract for you in the car instead of that fax I sent. After we sign off, I’d like to walk around the orchard on my own.”

      He’d rushed over here from his town house intent on seeing his land in the dead of winter. He’d seen the lights on in the kitchen of the farmhouse and known he should meet Eva in person. He couldn’t wait to get started, discuss the seasonal duties, the whole process. He couldn’t afford to waste time. He had one season, this season, to prove himself to his father.

      “Okay. No problem.” Her eyes matched the copper-brown color of her hair and he thought they’d softened toward him. A little.

      Adam knew women hit the salons, but Eva Marsh didn’t strike him as one of them. She didn’t wear a trace of makeup that he could see. She didn’t need to. She was small, reaching all of maybe five foot two. And awfully cute wearing an apron covered with embroidered cherries and a smudge of flour on her cheek.

      He took a sip of his coffee before he brushed off that flour. “Your father mentioned something about you starting a bed-and-breakfast. When do you plan to do that?”

      Eva’s mouth had thinned, the softness gone. “For now, that’s on hold.”

      Adam took another bite of his scone. Too bad Eva wasn’t as sweet as her baked goods. “Your dad’s the reason I hired you. Bob Marsh said you were the best person for the job.”

      Eva looked straight through him as if measuring him and then finding him lacking. He’d seen that look a million times from his dad, but it still pinched. He wasn’t going to let Eva’s wariness stop him from learning everything he could from her. With God’s help, he wasn’t going to let anything stop him from making this work.

      Adam nodded. “With the orchard right here, maybe you can do both.”

      “I’ll keep that in mind.” Again the impatient glare before looking down at the plate of scones.

      The dark fringe of her eyelashes curled against the swell of her cheeks. She had seriously long lashes and a few light freckles on her nose. Then she looked him square in the eye. “Look, I don’t mean to be so touchy, but it’s been a rough day. My bank shot down my loan application. I need this job and I’ll do my best as your farm manager.”

      Again Adam nodded while something protective stirred deep inside him. He’d erase that furrow in her brow if he could. “Good. I’m looking forward to learning everything I can from you about this orchard. I want our working relationship to be open and relaxed. I’m going to ask you a ton of questions, but I’m committed to an entire season of getting my hands dirty.”

      She didn’t look like she believed him. “It takes more than one season.”

      “I’m sure it does.” After one season, he’d know if acting on his childhood dream was the right direction after so many failed attempts to find his niche. This time his father had thrown down the gauntlet. Success meant Adam could finally walk away from Peece Canning Company. Fail, and he’d lose it all.

      Eva brushed a loose strand of her stick-straight hair off her forehead. The rest was tied into a messy ponytail. “Well, I guess we’ll have to see how it goes then, won’t we?”

      Adam knew that was his cue to go get the contract and wrap up this meeting, but he felt an odd urge to stay. Eva’s cluttered kitchen was warm and smelled good. It reminded him of his grandparents’ farmhouse where he’d spent summers as a kid. That had been the only place where his mom used to bake. The only place he’d ever felt as if he truly belonged.

      Adam knew better than to overstay his welcome. When it came to women, Adam never stayed. Not long anyway. “True. Thanks, Eva. It was nice to finally meet you.” He hooked his thumb toward the porch. “If you don’t mind, I’ll get our contract and then take that walk.”

      He extended his hand.

      This time she took it, but when he noticed the softness of her skin, she pulled back. “The snow’s deep out there. You’re likely to mess up those slick leather boots.”

      “Thanks, but I have more.” He reached for another scone. “Mind if I take one for the road?”

      Eva gave him a hint of a smile that revealed a dimple in her left cheek. She was impossibly cute. A real farm girl. “Go ahead.”

      Adam shrugged into his coat, wondering why he didn’t want to leave when Eva Marsh clearly wanted him gone. He went to the door and opened it. Snow spilled in from a good two-foot drift. The snowfall had grown heavier and the wind whipped. “Uh, Eva? I don’t think I’m going anywhere.”

      Eva